Pages

Showing posts with label burlesque. Show all posts
Showing posts with label burlesque. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

October.

IT'S OVER.

FubarFoto documenting yours truly right before the bloodshed.

Well, AbraCadaver is, anyway. October is still just beginning, and thank all that is dark and spooky for that. The show was a huge success (I heard we had three walk-outs this year, which may be a new record) and the feedback I've gotten so far indicates people thought it was our most sophisticated production yet. I am truly blessed to work with so many talented and passionate people - it means we can keep scaring the living bejeezus out of people year after year.

The last act this year involved my darling little sister murdering me horribly on stage. My cousin was in attendance and she said that while the people around her reacted to our fighting with winces, she could only snort and think "sisters." Indeed, I think it would be hard to fight more convincingly with anyone BUT Voodoo - we've been play fighting for years, after all, and if we slip and actually hurt one another we won't be all that angry. And hurt ourselves we did - I cannot begin to tell you how many bruises I have, and my left knee is missing most of its skin. Worth it. However, these bumps combined with the physical exhaustion of both setting up and taking down the stage dec this year has left me pretty fucking sore.

This is not entirely a bad thing - it is a reminder that we live in the body. And some of us have not been looking after those bodies as well as we should.

October marks one of the traditional Witches Sabbats that I hold dear - Samhain. Halloween has always been my favourite holiday (and my favourite costume as a child was a bat, so we can see that goth is apparently a disease one contracts early on) and the spiritual side of this day is one that I have not been able to ignore with any great success even in my most secular phases.

Many people consider Samhain to be the Witches New Year. It's the final harvest, and as such acts as the death knell for the year.

Also a character on the old Ghostbusters cartoon.

I've come to approach the holiday as time to clear old old junk in order to set new patterns over the winter, and this year feels like a good one to really stop fucking around in. A lot of my plans over the past year started strong and fell flat, and that's a problem. I think I've learned ways to avoid the usual obstacles I create for myself, and now is a time when I truly have no excuses left to keep me from doing my shit.

And man, do I have shit to do.

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

AbraCadaver 2014: Deal With the Devil


So that was LAST year.

This year, the theme of the show is 'Deal With the Devil' and oh boy oh boy, am I ever excited about it. Obviously I won't divulge too much - the show is this Saturday, and for anybody who happens to be reading this you can get your tickets online at Brown Paper Tickets dot com.

This year my involvement has been primarily offstage, much as it was last year - I'm a co-producer of course, but I'm also a writer and it's there that I have the most fun. I wound up doing a lot of research into the history of witch trials for a piece, and I have to say... what the fuck, why are dudes so scared of people stealing their dicks? Like, come on guys. Grow up.

One of the things about writing for shows is that you get to hear some pretty unbiased stuff - you're not on stage, so people don't necessarily know your involvement. I think it was the second year of AbraCadaver that had what some people called 'the rape monologue' and what I referred to as "the demon possession monologue."

Now, certain topics are triggering for some people, and I'm not about to slam anybody for that. But what I have considered about that particular show is that in my piece rape was alluded to, while in another piece about a guy chaining up a zombie and fucking it it was considerably more explicit. The latter piece was preformed by a man, and mine by a woman. I feel this may have been a factor in one being more upsetting than the other. I don't apologise for my writing in general, and while I'm sad to have upset people I also feel that that's good. You SHOULD be upset by that shit.

At any rate, the horror continues this year. Because it is a horror show, not a Halloween show - a distinction Voodoo and I have been careful to make in the past few years. Halloween shows may have spooky skeletons, pumpkins, black cats. A horror show will try its hardest to disturb you. There will be blood... and maybe the Devil himself.

Monday, May 5, 2014

Vévés, Kimonos and Headdresses

On the bus last week, my sister and I saw a young woman with a beautifully done tattoo sleeve comprised entirely of vévés. We both had to admire the skill of the artist, even as we raised our eyebrows up into our hairlines, since the young woman in question was white.
Like, white-white. As white as we are. Glow-in-the-dark white.

This is not to say Caucasians cannot practice Voudou - they obviously can. Karen McCarthy Brown, the author of Mama Lola: A Vodou Priestess in Brooklyn became an initiate, and Kenaz Filan is white. There are others who have been formally trained, and more still who have dabbled as a result of the widespread interest in African diasporic religions and folk magic. I count myself among the latter group.

"So why the fuck are you judging this chick's tattoos?" you might be wondering.

A few years ago now (Jesus, time flies) I actually saw another blog post on this exact same topic. It addresses the magical side of the WTFery, which I'm not really going to rehash except to say that yeah, it does seem a bit like an open invite for possession. But that's not terribly likely without the proper ritual framework, so I don't think it's terribly dangerous.

And, as was pointed out in that other post, the woman with the tattoos in question could actually be an initiate. Maybe she's a serious student of the occult. ...although I doubt it, since she appeared to have as many vévés on her arm as she could fit, which looks badass but is not something an actual student would do. The Erzulies do not like one another, for example, and so you would think an actual student would at LEAST put them on opposite arms.

Beyond the occult issues, what really bothered me was that big bad boogeyman again: Cultural Appropriation.

"You JUST SAID you're white and flirted with voudou gods!"

Yes, I did, but calm your tits for a second while I get a little more in depth.

Cultural appropriation is a big problem in both paganism and burlesque. I just attended the Vancouver International Burlesque Festival this weekend, and one of the best acts I saw was Ruth Or Dare's solo as part of the Pandora and the Locksmith's Awakenings production. Ruth is First Nations, and the dance integrated traditional ethnic dance. She informed me after the show she had been working on that number for two years as a response to cultural appropriation within the community. I nearly cried.

With burlesque, it's very, very easy to wind up on the bad side of the fence concerning this topic, because the art form is very much about stuff that looks pretty. Kimonos are beautiful. Saris are gorgeous. You see things and think, "aha, that would make a good act!" and very often do not think past that.

I've done it. My very first burlesque act was inspired by Japanese imagery as seen in horror films and anime, set to my favourite Visual Kei song of all time. It wasn't designed to be offensive; it was a love-letter to things I adored. But would I do that act today? No. No, I wouldn't, because as much as I had a love affair with the culture, it is not mine.

In paganism and the occult community, the very same thing happens a lot. You see a pretty thing, and you want to see what you can do with it. Fortunately, there's a chance to truly educate yourself on the practices you are interested in. Unfortunately, a lot of people don't bother, and some will even hide behind the Chaos Magic defense: use what works, none of it really matters really, hail Eris.

Have you noticed how many chaos magicians are white cis-dudes? You know, the people who are used to being able to use whatever and whoever they want? I'm sure there's absolutely no connection, though. /sarcasm font.

Now, not every chaos magician is a total prick - the majority of serious practitioners are really big on research, as they don't just want to cherry-pick beliefs. A big part of Chaos Magic is true paradigm shifting, and that requires immersion, and that does not allow for a haphazard system unless one wants to fuck oneself up really badly.

Eclectic pagans of the Wicca 101 school are also really, really bad about this - their source materials often advocate a magpie approach to spirituality that can hinder the seeker's growth and harm the living cultures from which they are adopting things. Because really, that's where shit gets messy.

African diasporic and First Nations religions are alive. They are still around. This does not mean that a white person is barred from learning about them, but when approaching these systems one must do so with honest respect and an understanding that we have no right whatsoever to expect to be allowed to learn their secrets. If I approach a Voudou priestess and ask to be taught, it is her right to tell me to go blow myself.

Both First Nations people and African Americans have a long, long history of being used and abused by Caucasians. That does not make us whiteys all evil people, but it does mean that there are hundreds of years worth of us stealing shit that's not ours. So in this modern age, when we are all hopefully striving towards equality, for us to take symbols or bits and bobs from a repressed minority's religion just because we like the look of them is morally disgusting.

Intent matters. It matters a lot. And history matters, too.

I've worked with the lwa. My involvement with those spirits has been minimal if very enlightening and I would not dare call myself an expert or a true adherent. Just because I know a little, would I tattoo myself with what is traditionally used as a conduit to the spirits? No. I have no right to do that. I actually feel similarly about certain First Nations symbols in tattoos; I adore the artwork of the Pacific Northwest indigenous peoples (especially Kwakwaka'wakw) but I don't think someone as pasty pale as me has any business getting something I may not understand on my body. 

That girl on the bus may very well have known what she was doing. I didn't get a chance to ask her "Who did these for you? Are you a practitioner? Why did you get them?" and perhaps it speaks to my own snobbery that I would assume they were simply done for aesthetic reasons. On the other hand, getting those symbols is taking a bold move when you are outside the culture and if you're never challenged on your motivations, you may never learn that you don't get to have everything you want.

Sunday, April 20, 2014

Magick Queendom/Glitterotica

Pictures of yours truly from Cabaret du Passe by the always awesome Bob Ayers:

My personal favourite.

 I even sewed that dang sleeve harness.

Reading from The Book of the Law while my sister interpretive danced it.

Check out the rest of the photo set too! The gals all looked amazing, and there's shots of Misty Greer's new collection.

Monday, January 20, 2014

Saturday, January 11, 2014

Glory, glory.

Tarantino Burlesque sold the fuck out.

Insaaaanely awesome show. I'm the first to admit I fucked right the fuck up in the opening number, but it was extremely goofy so I'm not actually sure it mattered all that much. The stage was way, way smaller than we'd anticipated with the band up there with us, which was problematic for the group numbers, but all things considered I think we did the best we could.

The solos went super well. This was my first time working with Ariel Helvetica and holy shit you guys she is so good. She's going to be taking Cherry on Top's slot for classes at the Burlesque Centre (Cherry's very pregnant) so once I'm back at work I'm planning to attend. Girl is crazy talented.

Yours truly did better than she expected. I was shitting myself a little beforehand, not gonna lie - again, a sold out show on the Granville strip. No pressure or anything.

The audience was an odd mix of totally into it and totally ignoring you. Our darling host Trixie Hobbitses of Geekenders fame was unfortunate enough to overhear some ladies talking smack about us performers outside the dressing room, which kinda bummed me out. But then I had a few different women come up to me over the rest of the evening to tell me how much they enjoyed my act. So, you know. Take criticisms when you can... but only if they're actual critiques and not just drunken declarations of bitchery. (Also if you aren't entertained by Sweetpea McGee in a gimp costume, then your taste is questionable at best.)

Overall an amazing night, and I'm still SO thrilled to have been a part of it. Blue Morris and the band are all fucking stellar to work with.

Okay, no more gushing.


In unrelated news, I finally mounted my Hand of Glory. Found a cheap shadowbox at Michael's and got some wood stain, which I also used to darken up parts of the skin because paint was just not looking right. I'm super ghetto so I just hot-glued everything in place and hung the damn thing on the wall.
Close-up of the Hand.

Eh, crooked photo. The label reads 'Hand of Glory. Supposed hand of a criminal hanged. Found 1932, Whitby, England." The Whitby Museum actually has what is believed to be a REAL Hand of Glory.

Its new home.

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Bring out the gimp.

For anybody in the Vancouver area, I'll be performing at Blue Morris' Tarantino Burlesque this Friday. I am very excited about the show, and the chance to up my game as a dancer. The other girls are fucking amazing, and I'm honoured to be able to share a stage with them.

Sunday, November 10, 2013

Friday, December 14, 2012

Moonlight Desires.

This one of my all-time favourite numbers. I'm not in it, but... good goddamn. I cannot stop laughing at it, even now.

These moonlight desire haunt me!


And here's my sister, Voodoo Pixie, and I doing our Geek number! ...still not as awesome as fucking Gowan up there, though. (I needed more blood capsules in my mouth.)

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

October Post-Mortem

Oh, October. How you consume my life. Every year, everything happens by Samhain... and then November is just dealing with the fallout.

So, what do you do? You look at your missed Pagan Blog Project prompts, shrug, drink your nasty mugwort tea (seriously, this shit is foul) and post some pictures from October's main events.

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Moonlight Desires

Just got back from the Taboo Revue, showered off the sweat and the glitter, and am now eating a bagel.

Voodoo and I preformed our geek number tonight. I'm the geek, she's a dove, and I rip her throat out at the end. It's fun times! It went over well, and I managed not to choke on my blood capsule.

One of our longtime Screaming Chicken volunteers, Karen, was chatting to me at intermission and she had some very kind words to say to me, that basically boiled down to "we can really tell you've been working on choreography." That honestly made my whole night, because I have been working on becoming a better dancer.

I have three numbers - not counting the giant Satan orgy group - planned for October. I'm doing a solo for Monster Bop, I want to pitch an Elvira tribute number for the Taboo, and I've been given the okay to do a solo for AbraCadaver. I want to do just an awesome job on all of them, and part of that means devoting a lot of time to the choreo. I'm not a trained dancer, and my physique can sometimes present some challenges, so this is kinda daunting. But I am excited for it.

Anyway. Tonight's finale was... amazing. There are no words. It was hilarious and actually really physical too. I just sat in the audience and laughed hysterically. It used the following song, which Canadians my age and older may remember...

 
 "Tessa Campinelli? You were fucking Tessa Campinelli?! You're such a bastard!"

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Tits McGee

The other night, my friend Tranny Zuko poked at a bubble in my shirt.

"What is that?" he asked.

"...double-boob," I sighed.

That's when your bra caused a little hump of flesh where your breast spills out of your cup. It's not supposed to happen, but when you've got giant boobs? It happens. A lot.

Know what else happens? Nearly suffocating yourself during pilates.

I've been working out steadily for months now, and I've dropped weight everywhere but my chest. I feel stronger, and better, but... AGH, the boobs! So I made a decision: on Tuesday, I'm talking to my doctor about breast reduction surgery.

Every since making the decision and talking to my sister and mother, it's just been like... I want it done NOW. Now now now! Yes, I know you can't do jack shit for a week after, and yeah, it takes between one and two months before you can 'do sports' or whatever, and it can take a year before your boobs get totally settled... I don't care. I just keep looking down and going, "goddamn, you could FIT THINGS AND NOT SUFFOCATE ME."

As a burlesque performer, a lot of people have seen my boobs. Duh. And honestly, part of my resistance to the idea of surgery is a result of being in the burlesque scene. For one thing? People know me by my breasts. When I've mentioned before to people that they annoy me, I get a lot of, "but you have the perfect boobs!" and so on and so forth. Yeah, sure, perfect if you don't want to DO shit.

You can't get cheap bras to turn into show bras. You hear the other girls all, "I got it on sale for ten bucks!" as they gleefully rhinestone their multi-coloured underthings. They get to fit the cute normal-sized pasties. And dance moves? When you have two huge fat sacks on your front, doing certain moves is really hard, or downright impossible.

Burlesque is an interesting subculture because it's sexual, but also filled with feminists. Burlesque performers are encouraged to feel beautiful regardless of body shape. So in a weird way, getting a tit job also feels like a betrayal to that spirit. You're changing your body. That's not a core value in burlesque. (At least not in the circles I run in.)

And of course, there's scarring. That's a concern, if only because I wonder if for the rest of my life people will assume I got implants. Because let's face it - even with a reduction, I'll still be busty. ...but I won't be a fucking I cup anymore.

But ultimately? It's my body. And the health and mental benefits will be immeasurable. So.

And goddamn am I going shopping after. FOR PRETTY BRAS.

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Sunday Linkage

Over on Strategic Sorcery, Jason has done a neat little post about shit we shouldn't care so much about.

Gordon at Rune Soup reminds us it's Jack Parson's death day today! I learned about Parsons from the DisInfo Book of Lies years ago. Sometime after that I got drunk on free wine in an Italian restaurant (seriously, it was just on the table and neither I not my roommates paid for it) and proceeded to babble on about the Anti-Christ being a rocket scientist.

Because that is how I roll, people.

I also roll as a Sideshow Geek at Le Cabaret Du Passe. Oh yes.

Monday, May 7, 2012

SUPERMOON!

Hope everyone enjoyed the supermoon!

That night also happened to be the unofficial Vancouver International Burlesque Festival after-party. In celebration, Voodoo and I tried a new cocktail...

The Ward Eight.

I'd never bought bourbon before. We wound up picking Bulleit, mostly because the bottle is really nifty. Once at the party Blue Morris, visiting burlesque star Persephone and her gentleman friend expressed their approval so I guess we picked a good one. Sometimes being shallow pays off!

Blue also tried to buy our amazing travel bar off of us. Can't say I blame him. That thing is PIMP.




See the pimpness? Voodoo bought it for fifty bucks. Her boobs are sort of blocking it in this shot, but it came with plastic shot and highball glasses as well as cocktail shaker accessories. The shaker it did not come with, but we already owned one so we were well set.

"I AM Don Draper!" my sibling declared after purchase.

She is. ("HWOOOOOOOOOGHHH... what?")

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Too drunk to... post.

Today, we had a photoshoot at Frank's place. Frank is one of my favourite people, because he is so genuine and so all-around wonderful. He's also a great photographer, especially for someone like me who is not a born poser. My sister is a natural camera whore, and she photographs insanely well. Me? I worry about things like a double chin if I look down, looking stiff and weird, or accidental sexyface. Frank gave me wonderful direction on my solo shots, and I was thrilled with the shots he showed me. Thank you, Frankie!

Also his cat is awesome.


After the shoot, we had rehearsal for Tranny Zuko's 'Be Italia' number. I play a whorewhore madame in that one, and I lip-synch which I've never done on stage before. It's awesome. Tranny, Dame Booty Dench and I came back to my place after to clean up some tambourine work and as usual Tranny got me drunk. So I'm afraid my awesome entry on hexing will have to wait, as I am soused and instead want to share something with ya'll...



I love Pogo. 'Upular' is still my absolute favourite ever.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Back.

Clearly, I've been a bit absent from the blogosphere - between work and my grandmother's funeral, I just haven't had the energy to care. But I'm rested and back on a fairly even keel again, so the usual bullshit will resume!

So, a few things:

I am going to Las Vegas for the BHOF this summer - Screaming Chickens' group number was accepted in the competition. I'm technically just an alternate, but I wound up filling in the last time we preformed the number, so I'm planning to go. Also it's just grand fun.

Our podcast is now available on iTunes!

And I bought a new dress. My hair looks awfully poofy, ooh. This was after a day at the office.

Alright, that's all for now. I WILL RETURN... with a gin review.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Pork is a party meat.

Tranny Zuko's debut solo is up!

He's such a sweetheart. I was sitting next to his mother when he did this number. He did not warn her about his, er, "hand blender."

He choreographed this number for us, which I'd love to do again - I was hella ill that night, and could have done better.

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Hang each night in raaaaaaaaaapture...

Daily outfit post! I went shopping this weekend and got these trousers at Jacob - finally, a replacement for my broke-ass jeggings. I have very wide hips, and a bit of a tummy, so low-rise pants? Not my fucking friend. These will be perfect when the weather warms up just a little bit more - they were okay for a stroll to Starbucks but any further and I would have been too chill.

While at the mall, Voodoo and I also went bra shopping. My sister's breasts are not small, but compared to mine, well... let's put it this way - she can go to La Senza. My chest outgrew La Senza ages ago - the only shop I bother with now is Change.

I picked up two bras and some damn sexy granny panties. Three items set me back over one hundred dollars. I sometimes wonder if men had to wear bras if they'd all be thirty bucks, tops...

I've been looking at underwear online. I've fallen a bit in love with this and this. My friend Ava Lure has something similar (purely for looks - that girl is built like a whippet) and I found at the last Taboo I was drooling over it.

Photo by Greg McKinnon.
Speaking of the last Taboo Revue...

We managed to do our darling choreographer Tranny Zuko proud! I was deathly fucking ill, which you never would have guessed. Makeup hides a multitude of sins.

Pictured from left to right: me, Dame Booty Dench, Lily Lovepie, and Blush Lane.

Monday, February 20, 2012

Queen of Pain!

Here's the routine from the last Taboo Revue. Hard to believe the next one is this weekend! Many thanks to Hunter S. Johnson for being my bitch.

20120128 - Taboo Revue - 05 - Mama Fortuna - Queen of Pain from Screaming Chicken on Vimeo.